


The Rain Continues Falling

by ununoriginal



Category: NewS (Band)
Genre: M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-09
Updated: 2008-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-15 01:11:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ununoriginal/pseuds/ununoriginal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yamapi and Shige meet up after Shige's last Tokyo show. Pi/Shige.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rain Continues Falling

**Author's Note:**

> I was very much inspired by 涙を届けて: the theme song from Shige's drama, 'Hoka Ben', while writing this.

By the time he finishes humming 'Tsunami' under his breath, the rumble of the plane overhead has given way to the deeper bass of thunder growling in the distance. 

There's going to be rain tonight, he thinks, and turns to tell Shige that maybe it's time for them to get back into the house, but Shige's already asleep, blond head crooked at an awkward angle against his shoulder, as if even now, he's unsure of his right to use Yamapi's shoulder as his pillow. 

In the moments between the flare of summer lightning and the heavy drum rolls heralding the incoming storm, he stares at the younger man's sleeping face, the uneven illumination highlighting the long lashes, shadows deepening the hollows of his cheeks, mouth slack with fatigued slumber. 

There's a slight furrow between Shige's brow though, and it brings an answering frown to Yamapi's face as well. 

The air is cooling and he can feel the first sprinklings of a drizzle that would soon turn into a downpour wisping in through the square windows of the clubhouse, but he suddenly doesn't feel like going back so soon. Shifting aside the empty beer cans to the corner as quietly as he can, he carefully slips an arm around Shige's shoulders and lowers his thin, lanky frame until Shige's head is in his lap. 

Almost immediately, Shige curls up on his left, unconsciously burrowing into the warmth of Yamapi's body. 

Yamapi smiles slightly as he recalls Shige telling him how he had had to force himself to change which side he could sleep on, after hearing a story from a friend about how if one slept facing the wall, spirits could reach out through the barrier and make contact with the living. Gently, he strokes Shige's hair as Shige settles more comfortably against him. It's most likely these unexpected flashes of the irrational hidden amidst the logic and maturity that drew him to Shige in the first place. 

The next rumble of thunder breaks out without warning overhead, and Shige's hand, still slightly clammy in his, tightens almost imperceptibly. Yamapi gazes down at him, sweeping light fingers across Shige's brow until his features relax. Right now, curled up against him, face soft in sleep, Yamapi thinks Shige finally looks the twenty-one he should be. 

He remembers the last time he truly saw that expression – the day before Shige had turned twenty. 

They had finished practice for the day, but Yamapi had had to return to their dressing room to grab his sunglasses. Shige had been the only one still there, talking and laughing animatedly on the phone, and Yamapi had paused at the doorway, watching, wondering why he had never seen this confident, relaxed, comfortable Shige before. 

He must have made some movement because in the next instant, Shige's head had whipped around and his expression instantly changed into the sheepish, embarrassed one Yamapi had seen for the past four years. 

Shige had hung up then, and Yamapi had impulsively offered to bring him out for drinks for his birthday. Shige, slightly bewildered and confused, had accepted, and now, a little more than a year later, they're here, and Yamapi still hasn't met that Shige again yet. 

All the dinners, the late-night drinks and outings, the stay-overs that had led to kissing and then sex – to this _thing_ that remains nameless between them – and the Shige he had glimpsed in the dressing room one year ago still remains elusive. 

There's a soft snuffling from Shige and his free hand clutches at Yamapi's jacket. Yamapi brushes his lips lightly across Shige's temple and Shige settles with a murmured “Yamashita-kun...” 

_Oh, Shige, after all this time and it's still Yamashita, ne._

Sometimes Yamapi wishes that Shige can be less sensible, less mature and logical, so that when he says things like, “we're just, you know, we're together,” Shige will say no, no he doesn't know; will shout and throw a tantrum; will cling and scream and demand things from him, even if Yamapi's not sure he can or is willing to give them. 

But Shige, his – _his?_ \- long-suffering, painfully rational Shige never does. Shige's brain will churn out a concession, rationalisations that Yamapi feels he doesn't deserve, and he'll remain silently pliant as Yamapi enfolds him in his arms and kisses his eyelids, his cheeks, his soft, soft lips. 

Outside, the heavens have unleashed an all-out downpour. It's too late to go in now, they'll just have to wait it out – these summer deluges never last that long anyway. 

Shige's shoulders tremble slightly with the next strong draft of wind blasting through the clubhouse, so Yamapi awkwardly shrugs out of his thin jacket and drapes the extra layer of clothing over Shige's sleeping form. Nevertheless, Shige still seems cold, curling further into himself under the jacket. 

_I should have brought him back earlier,_ the thought occurs to Yamapi as he slides down to spoon himself against Shige's back. The movement disturbs the other man and he stirs restlessly, trying to sit up. 

“Wha-- shit, I can't believe I fell asleep, I'm sorry, Yama--” 

“It's ok, Shige.” Yamapi draws Shige around to face him. “The rain's too heavy now anyway. I don't want you to get soaked and catch a cold trying to run back to the house.” He puts an arm around Shige's waist and pulls him closer. “Go back to sleep. We can go back when the rain stops.” 

Shige smiles sleepily and places one hand against Yamapi's cheek that slowly slides down to rest against his collarbone. “Alright then... thanks...” He drifts off again and in that instant, Yamapi thinks he may have glimpsed _something_. He almost reaches up to prod Shige awake so that he can see it again, but stops himself. 

Later, when the rain starts to lighten, he'll wake Shige up and they'll walk back to his home. But right now the only thing that seems worth doing is lying here, with this man he should call lover but doesn't know how, in the tiny cramped space of a clubhouse on a playground set, Shige's breath against his neck and Shige's hand tight in his. 

He wants to imagine a world where someday he can properly answer Shige when he asks what they are doing; where he can say _no, I'd much rather be in Osaka supporting my boyfriend, than making an appearance at Tokyo Dome in an attempt to boost ratings for a drama_. 

He imagines Shige's face lighting up as he unexpectedly spies Yamapi in the audience at the Umeda theatre, and after the play, when he enters Shige's dressing room backstage, Shige will look up from removing his make-up and turn around. He'll smile and pull Yamapi close and whisper delightedly against Yamapi's lips, _Pi, I can't believe you came,_ before they kiss long and deep. 

Another strong gust of wind sends spray misting across their faces, and Yamapi gently thumbs away the droplets from Shige's eyelashes. 

Outside, the rain continues falling.


End file.
